


Anomalies

by ficmeup



Category: Misfits, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Friendship, Humor, Nathan's pottymouth, POV Third Person, brief mentions of sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficmeup/pseuds/ficmeup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small mishap may bring Sherlock to his greatest (and oddest) case yet, much to five young offenders horror.</p><p>Sherlock/Misfits crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anomalies

**Author's Note:**

> To understand what is going on in this story it's essential to have watched the first season of Sherlock and atleast up to half of the second season of Misfits. Certain events will occur at different times than shown in the show, to better fit with the story (i.e to make it easier for me) so try to roll with it. Heavily focused on Nathan this chapter since it's from his POV.

* * *

* * *

 

  **I**

Nathan yawns, making sure to be extra loud and over the top, as he stretches out on the bars behind him. He's only half acting; sleeping on the floor of the community centre really takes it out of you after a while. The annoyed glances directed his way are a nice bonus.

“If you're quite finished,” their probation worker drawls, who is standing in front of the gang ready to make some bullshit announcement that no-one cares about (including the person announcing it).

“Oh please, go right ahead.” Nathan flashes the best innocent smile he can conjure up at nine am. It doesn't seem to do much, although in his defence nothing really seems to bother their third probation worker who seems to be in a constant state of bored and annoyed simultaneously.

"Can we just get this over with?" Alisha snaps and Barry actually nods in agreement, who then regrets the action so fast he actually freezes mid-nod.

Nathan almost teases him about it but the kid already looks like he's already gonna piss his pants at the thought of getting told off over something so small and that's amusing enough to sedate him, for now.

“Listen up, yeah? Cause I'm only gonna say this once.” The worker glowers at all of them, but he definitely lingers on Nathan and Alisha which, _wow_ , offensive. He's pretty sure he is in a different league of bullshittery than her, thank you very much. “We have a new member joining you in your community service today.”

He steps a little to the side to reveal a smaller man standing behind him. If Nathan had been paying more attention he probably would have noticed him sooner. The new guy appears to be middle aged and fairly short but certainly looks like he could still pack quite the punch. He's not ugly but he's not exactly pretty either. In fact he looks rather like an elf in the orange overall they are all forced to wear. It's his eyes that hold the most interest, he concludes; they manage to look soft and yet sharp at the same time.  Everything about him practically screams average though, so Nathan goes back to pulling the pizza from last night he can still feel stuck in his teeth out.

“His names John,” Probation worker (who probably has a name also but hey, who cares?) declares. “Oh, and I should probably mention he used to be in the military so uh, try not to piss him off.” He shrugs and begins to head to his office. “Or do and get beat up. I don't really care.”

“What about our work for t-today?” The little freak asks and they all groan in annoyance (even the new recruitment, funnily enough) at their ruined opportunity to get away with doing nothing.

“You twat,” Nathan whispers to him as the worker stops at the door, “do you want to ask about some overtime too? Is that what turns you on?”

“..Not really no,” Barry mumbles and Nathan flicks him on the head because he can.

“Work. Riggghhht.” He looks around the room once before settling on the drawings near the windows that have been there longer than they have. “Paint over that shit.”

“Hey,” Nathan calls after him in disbelief, “you decided that on the spot, didn't you? I don't think you're taking this job seriously! You'll never get that promotion at this rate!”

The office door slams in response.

“He seems like a lovely bloke,” the new guy comments.

"He's always like that," Curtis sighs. “Lets just get this over with.”

 

* * *

 

They all steal glances at their latest addition to the crew warily, as they pass paint tins and brushes around. He's either oblivious to the attention he's receiving or just doesn't care.

It's clear to see what everyone's thinking, even without having Kelly's telepathic ability; now that there's someone new in the gang they'll have to take care on what then end up saying to each other. That sounds like such a _chore_ to Nathan. At least the last guy, who had that crappy teleport power, had just come right out and asked them about their powers. Dancing around the issue isn't really his style so he goes to break the ice with ' _oh by the way, the chav can read your every thought so don't think about shagging her_!' but Alisha gets there before him.

“So you used to be a soldier?” she asks once they have all collected paint brushes for themselves. He gives a stiff nod in response, not looking too happy about his past being revealed. “What on earth are you doing here then?”

“I got an ASBO,” he answers and its easy to see from his clenched hands and drawn in eyebrows how angry he is about that. “For doing graffiti on a public gallery,” he elaborates.

“Nice,” Nathan compliments. “That's a big fuck you to the artistic community. Very ironic.”

“Not sure it was worth it, mate,” Curtis says from above. Being taller than all of them its an unspoken agreement that he deals with painting the upper wall and he must have fetched a chair to stand on while Nathan wasn't looking. “Being stuck here for weeks that is.”

Kelly frowns. “Yeah just what was the point of doing that anyway? I don't understand.”

“Shocker!” Nathan says sarcastically. Kelly punches him on the arm and he retaliates with a flick of the paintbrush which gets a push in return.

“You shouldn't make a fuss,” Barry says from where he's huddled in the corner colouring a small part of the wall with such preciseness it hurts to look at. “We could get in trouble.”

“ _Could_ we? Honestly Barry its like you haven't been here these past few weeks. Trouble is my first, middle and last name.”

Barry's expression turns to horrified, more horrified than usual. “Who's Barry?”

“ _You_ are.” Nathan looks at him like he just ripped his clothes off and danced the salsa. He knew the kid was batshit cuckoo but to forget his own name? That's some asylum shit.

“His name is Simon,” Kelly says sounding just as offended as the weird kid.

“ _Is it_?” Nathan asks, genuinely shocked. He manages to look guilty for a brief moment before the smile plasters on again. “Sorry man!” He gives Bar— _Simon_ (personally he prefers Barry, but oh well) a half hearted consolation pat on the arm as he walks past.

He doesn't get round to the oh so important task of painting obscene dirty images on the wall as he hears a quiet snort to his left and turns to see (fuck, what was his name again? Jack? Joe? Oh that’s right—John) with a grin on his face.

“And what're you all smiley for, new guy? Remembering that porno you watched last night?”

John shrugs. “Actually, you remind me of someone I know. He's useless at recalling names too.”

“Ohhh,” Nathan breathes and then repeats with more vigor when an idea hits him. “Are we talking about a _romantic_ someone? An ex-lover perhaps?” He waggles his beautiful eyebrows. “Because, while I'm 90% sure I don't swing that way even on my most drunken escapades, I'm always up for new experiences.”

The shorter man allows a small grin before he straightens himself. “I'm afraid I don't return the sentiment,” he pauses and then adds, “That _someone_ is an annoying prick too.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Nathan says as everyone fails to hide their amusement at his expense. “I'll have you know I'm every middle aged man's wet dream. And I'm not an annoying prick!” He is rewarded with disbelieving stares. “Well I'm not _always_. You're all welcome for that, by the way.”

Whatever John's reply to that is cut off by the chime of his phone. He checks it (somehow keeping Nathan from reading it, and despite his best efforts he is only able to catch sight of “— **SH** ”) and sighs.

“I don't suppose they have security here able to keep out busy body's?” John asks.

“Ha! Security? In this shithole? Now that's a laugh,” Nathan replies. “Thank god though, eh? Or how else would we get away with all our crazy shit?” He directs the question towards Simon and winks at him, who is returning the stare with such worried intensity you'd think he'd just admitted to the murders of their old probation workers.

“Why? Is someone botherin' you or somethin'?” Kelly asks John and Nathan has to roll his eyes at her already protective behaviour of their latest recruit.

“Bothering? That’s putting it kindly,” John mutters while only fuels Kelly's concerned stare so he adds, “No it's fine. Trust me, I'm used to it.”

Kelly lets it go and they continue painting. Well, he assumes that's what the rest are doing. He's still determined to paint out as many sex positions he can before he gets caught. John's phone continues to go every two minutes, each one a text and each one making him pull a frustrated face at his phone.

There’s only so many text alerts Nathan can take before he snaps, so he says, “Okay man I'll just say it. If you've got some crazy drug dealers after you its better just to get the shit beaten out of you by them now.”

Curtis glares down at him.

“Just ignore him,” Alisha says to John, looking over at him with disdain. “He's a dick.”

He puts his hands up in a surrender gesture. “Well you,” he points to Curtis, “should know about drug dealers better than anyone else here, right? Just let them get that rage out. Maybe they'll kick you so hard their precious powder will fly out of your nose. You'll give them exercise _and_ a refund! Everyone's a winner!”

Nathan’s expecting denial or a little anger from John but he just _smiles_ at him like he's a joke he doesn't quite understand yet and continues painting which, yeah, kinda shocks him. This John guy clearly isn't from the estate, where people like to pick a fight just for looking at them in a certain way.

“Not only is that physically impossible,” a new—extremely deep—voice speaks up from directly behind him, “but John has never consumed any type of illegal drug in his life.”

Nathan lets out a (very manly) shriek and turns around, dropping the paintbrush in surprise. Thankfully he's not the only one to humiliate himself; Kelly’s arms are up in boxing style and Curtis is trying to regain his balance on the chair while Alisha has grabbed onto Simon (who looks like he just popped his cherry) for support.

“Hey man, nice coat,” Nathan remarks, only half-joking, eyeing the expensive piece of clothing with envy.

“What the fuck do ya think you're playing at?” Kelly demands once her shock wears off.

Their new addition is paying zero attention to them though, only focusing on John, and it doesn't take much brain power to realise this was probably the busy-body John was referring to only moments before. He's tall—much taller than himself, he realises with a pinch of annoyance—and skinny. Its hard to see under the long dark coat and blue scarf wrapped around his neck but his skin appears to be deadly pale, a stark contrast to his curly (yet tidier than Nathan's) pitch black hair.

Where John practically emits normal with every fibre of his being this guy seems to broadcast how _different_ he is just by standing there. Nathan thinks he would probably get along very well with Barry.

“How did you get here so fast?” John asks but he doesn't sound entirely surprised, more resigned. “Or even know I was at this specific centre?”

“I followed you,” Mystery man announces like that isn't creepy at all. “Even if I hadn't it would be a simple task of merely knowing which centres located nearby would be more likely, and able, to take you in. The texts were solely an experiment to see if you would reply.” He fixes the phone in Johns hand with a stare like its responsible for all the evil in the world. “Evidently not. So, angry with me then. Feeling betrayed, even.”

“I told you that I got a bloody ASBO, Sherlock!” John says, the calm façade cracking a bit. “You might be able to dismiss a thing like that but I—”

“Lestrade will take care of it,” he interrupts, already looking bored with the conversation. “There’s really no need for you to be here John. Don't be ridiculous.”

John shuffles on the spot. “ _Ridiculous_? You can't always just snap your fingers and have Myc—”

“Wait,” Nathan cuts in, unable to stay out of it any longer. He chokes back a laugh to sputter out, “Your name is _Sherlock_?” And to think he had given Beverly hassle over his name when there was people named Sherlock around! “By any chance was your mother craving for sherbets and cock during your pregnancy?”

Sherlock finally takes notice of him, and like an invisible barrier has been broken, glances at everyone else too. His eyes never delay or pause on anyone specifically, just a quick, clean sweep across. Their all criminal offenders who deal with being stared at in all kind of negative ways on a daily basis, but this is different. It feels like an intrusion; Sherlock's looking directly at them but he's seeing something else entirely.

If it wasn't for the pure ice Nathan was currently recipient to in the man’s eyes when they do eventually come back to him he would say Sherlock hadn't even heard his remark. He takes a step towards him and Nathan braces himself for—what? Mr fancy coat doesn't exactly dress like someone who would get in a physical brawl, yet his fight or flight instincts are kicking in anyway.

Sherlock breathes in.

“God, Sherlock, not here,” John groans, putting his head in his hands.

“You use sexual remarks frequently and flippantly in order to put people off balance to cover up your own discomfort around the issue. A bad previous sexual experience?” Sherlock's sharp gaze runs down his body once before remaining on his eyes again. “No, too much self-confidence for that. Arguably over compensating. Sexually abused then. But not recently, more likely when you were a child. Clearly your issues were never resolved, so the case was never dealt with. Perhaps no-one believed you? I admit this is pure speculation on my part but since you haven't denied it yet I assume I'm on the right track.”

Nathan tries to spit out an insult but finds all he can do is swallow in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. Who was this asshole and what kind of messed up power was he using? Was it even a power?

He spots Kelly in his peripheral vision gaping at Sherlock with pure fear and he wonders what thoughts she can hear, what else he's not saying out loud. Sherlock's not leaving him in suspense for long though, because he's already speaking again before Nathan's brain has a chance to catch up.

“—and from the state of your appearance you're living in a less than desirable accommodation. The condition of your dental hygiene isn't horrendous, so you have access to somewhere with water. Overall, you're not in a bad enough state to be homeless but enough for you to be under nourished, hence hiding out in a place you shouldn't be. There's only so many places you would go to—”

And Nathan belches, noisy and repulsive, and extends it for as long as he can. He makes sure to smack his lips at the end as an extra fuck you. John peeks out from his hands, looking slightly relieved at the sudden change.

“I'm sure that was a _beautiful_ speech but honestly? You lost me at 'sexual' buddy,” he says with his dirtiest leer. “My mind wondered off into an orgy chock full of luscious beauties that even your irritating drivel couldn't interrupt.”

All the tension seems to leave the room then and even Barry is smiling at him like he has just announced that he owns the whole Star Trek collection.

If he knew Sherlock better he _might_ have caught the flash of surprise that lit up his features briefly and if he knew Sherlock as well as, say, a certain flatmate, he _might_ have also noticed the calculating respect he had earned in that moment.

But he doesn't, so with a quick smirk and a familiar cocky posture he announces, “I'm now off to have a fantastic wank, so I'll catch you tossers later, unless you want to come watch the show.”

 

* * *

 

Knocking one off is far from his list of things Nathan wants to do right now, which shows just how much that freak has put him on edge, so he settles for having a cigarette in the locker room and trying not to look downright miserable. His reflection in the mirror is showing what a piss poor job he is doing at that so he gives up and starts rubbing his forehead, wondering if the words 'molested child' are written on there somewhere.

He doesn't have to wait long for company. Jumping into action he quickly throws the finished fag over his shoulder and considers putting a hand down his pants to scare them off, but when he sees the familiar scraped back hair he knows it wouldn't work anyway and leans back on one of the lockers.

“I punched him in the face for ya,” is what Kelly greets him with.

Nathan chuckles, knowing first-hand how hard Kelly's punches actually are. “Oh Jesus, now that’s something I should have been there for. Please tell me you gave that posh prick a black eye.”

“Nah. But then John punched him right after so maybe. I think it was more for Sherlock's protection though, right, since Curtis and Alisha have downright scary glares and Simon looked like he was gonna start another fire on that guys head, yeah? It was proper mental.”

“Wait, who was gonna start a fire?”

She rolls her eyes. “Barry, you knobhead.”

“Oh right.” He pauses to let that all sink in, the disgust that was rolling in his gut now replaced with something warm. “Good old gang, eh? Sure, we suck at not killing people but when it comes to beating them up we're first class! Hey you know what we should do to celebrate?”

He watches her questioning eyebrows in disbelief. “Alcohol, obviously! When has alcohol never not solved anything?”

“Errr, always?”

Nathan waves her off. “Then frankly my dear, you're just not doing it right. Allow my more educated self to show you ”

This is what being friends is all about, Nathan thinks as he leaves the room with an arm around Kelly, no awkward questions about his revealed past and easily agreeing to get shit faced with him. Simple.

“Hang on Nathan, there's somethin' I need to tell ya.”

Or not.

He panics. “What? We're not going to talk about _feelings_ are we because you know I'm no good with that girly crap.”

She shakes her head. “No, nothin' like that. It was that guy, Sherlock...I think he might know things about us. Enough to make him suspicious.”

Nathan snorts. “Puurrlease. He makes a few far fetched guesses about me,” they both wince a little at that, both knowing it was so much more than that but dammit he's going to play denial to the end like a pro, “and you're saying it's game over for us! Have a little faith!”

“You should 'ave heard his thoughts, Nathan. I could barely keep up." Kelly bites her lip, a nervous trait he's never seen her do before. "And it made sense, ya know? Like, backing his thoughts up with facts and stuff. One look at Curtis and he was mentally listing off every one of his sport achievements like...like he had _been_ there.”

“Okay fine, the guys a genius, so what?” He does a dramatic disgusted shiver at having to compliment the guy. “I'm sure he's long gone now and taken his oversized ego with him. Honestly, I doubt we'll ever see the tosser again.”

Kelly doesn't look entirely convinced but mercifully says no more about it as they head back to the main hall.

 

* * *

 

Nathan decides the universe hates him.

Sherlock hasn't gone anywhere, fixed in the exact spot that Nathan had left him in. Johns moved, standing slightly behind him and looking grim, while the rest of the gang are opposite them. It reminds him of one of those old, lame western films where the cowboys get ready to have a shoot out.

As they get closer he's able to see the dark mark now quickly blooming on Sherlock's cheek. Kelly had been telling the truth; he had got hit twice and in roughly the same spot. Bulls-eye. It's only the slight agitated twitch in his upper lip when he talks that gives away whether or not he can actually feel any pain.

It makes Nathan feel a bit better.

But Sherlock is still speaking despite that, with his hands pressed together under his chin like a prayer, eyes zoned in on what Nathan assumes are his latest victims—Simon and Alisha—and he's actually a bit curious on what he might find out about them, so he says nothing when he rejoins the group by the centres back wall.

“—therefore its obvious you two are no more than acquaintances and yet to you,” Sherlock pivots to Alisha, “this relationship is more, something deeper and more intimate. Furthermore it's an connection only _you_ have experienced. There would only be one explanation for that and it's illogical, no, highly improbable.”

Nathan is beginning to question this guys mental-state because whatever he's saying isn't making much sense to him. Maybe Kelly did overestimate him and he's actually a lunatic that gets a few lucky guesses here and there. If it wasn't for the blatant deer in headlights face Alisha was wearing he would have intercepted with some inappropriate joke about her stealing Barry's virginity by now.

“The boy has no idea what I'm talking about, if his stunned expression is anything to go by—which it is—so you haven't told him. Maybe you assumed he wouldn't believe you...no, given each of your... _special_ circumstances that shouldn't be an issue. _Oh_.” Sherlock stops mid-rant, pulling his hands apart. “You can't tell him, too many unknowns and consequences. Understandable.”

If Alisha wasn't seconds away from hyperventilating and Barry absent somewhere in la-la land for being placed in the same sentence as her they most likely would have picked up on Sherlock's emphasis on _special_. But they are, so it's up to Nathan, Curtis and Kelly to share a look of caution and prepare themselves for the inevitable.

There's no grand reveal though, no long-winded explanation of how Sherlock's found out about their powers and that they killed two of their probation officers. Instead, Sherlock puts his hands in his pockets, the frantic facial movements and twisted excitement replaced with the smooth indifference he had started with.

“Come along John,” he says after a beat, swivelling to the exit, coat shadowing his movements. “Much to do.”

Nathan heavily sighs out in relief; he's far too sexy to go to prison and there's too many lady's he hasn't shagged yet. Kelly elbows him in the ribs. He's not sure if its because of his dirty thoughts of the fact he's not putting much effort in hiding his relief. Either way, it hurts.

John waits until Sherlock is at the exit before he speaks. “I'm staying.”

“Oh?” Only Sherlock's hand falters, hovering on the door handle.

John crosses his arms attempting to look formidable. “I'm finishing my community service.”

Sherlock raises an eyebrow like the action causes him much suffering. “That’s not necessary. But very well, if you insist.”

John frowns, appearing shocked at being let off so easy. “Right. I'll see you later, then.”

It's only when Sherlock's opening the door that Nathan springs back to liveliness. See, the _smart_ thing to do now would let the wannabe detective walk away, but he can't help but want to add one more little dig.

“I'm not really an expert on the whole gay marriage thing,” Nathan starts to taunt, “but I doubt you'll be getting laid any time tonight because of this, pal.”

"We're not a couple," mutters John, in a tone that sounds like he's been put on auto-pilot for that sole sentence.

Sherlock turns his head enough to smirk at him and Nathan thinks its one of the most scariest things he's ever seen (even more traumatising than the time he walked in on his mother doing the dirty with one of his old teachers).

“Unless you also desire to add arsonist to your criminal record you may want to properly dispose of your cigarette next time.” Sherlock steps through the threshold and looks back once to add lightly, “Just a thought.”

They all stare at the space Sherlock occupied in confusion for several before Nathan understands and, _oh shit_. He shouts various more blasphemy’s and runs towards the locker room, tripping several times on the way in his haste.

“I don't even want to know,” Curtis says, before whirling on Alisha. "What _I do_ want to know is what was up with all that crap that guy was saying about you and Simon."

Alisha proceeded to conveniently need to go the bathroom everytime someone questioned her.

 

* * *

 

They get to the end of their day with no more interruptions. They're changing out of their community uniforms in the locker room (the small fire that started to spread there was luckily stopped due to Kelly's great stomping ability, even though Nathan suggested the better idea of throwing Barry down on it, which had earned him a slap on the head) when their probation worker walks by and taps on the door frame to get their attention.

“I've just been informed that Mr. Watson here now only has to serve five more days before he's a free man again,” he says blandly, “congratulations.”

John looks momentarily shocked but his voice is even when he replies, “I understand. Thanks Shaun.”

Probation worker nods, giving them all a 'don't-fuck-anything-up' scowl before leaving.

Nathan’s ashamed of himself for not leaving a nasty surprise in his office yet and puts it on his to do list. “Who's Shaun?”

They all groan and apparently deem it pointless to answer him. Alisha looks up from where she's doing her make up in front of the mirror long enough to roll her eyes at him.

“How come your time got cut down then?” Curtis inquires, the first to have gotten dressed—Nathan figures he's used to getting changed quickly in locker rooms given his sport history.

“Sherlock must have known I wouldn't leave and got my time shortened in advance,” John answers with a slight huff, but he's smiling. “He has ... _connections_ that are able to do things like that.”

“Then what was the reason of coming down here and all,” Curtis struggles with finding the correct word, “.. _that_ earlier?”

No-one picks at him for the uncreative description as they're not sure how to explain what occurred either. Nathan tugs his t-shirt extra hard over his head when he remembers Sherlock's smug sneer when he had gotten the last word.

"I reckon he didn't even have a reason," Alisha says, glaring at her own reflection. "He probably has nothing better to do and wanted to dick around. It was all bollocks anyway."

It's a lie and they all know it, but everyone's a little on edge after learning that their secrets can be easily revealed by a scarf-wearing maniac and denying it seems like the healthiest route to go down.

“Honestly,” John says when it becomes obvious that Curtis actually wants an answer from him, “I have no idea.” He turns to look at them, and then Nathan, hesitant. “I'm really sorry about Sherlock. He's always like that with everyone. I think he might actually like you, though.”

“Great,” Nathan draws out the word sardonically, pulling at the tufts of hair caught in his jacket in an attempt to ignore his unease at the older man’s apology. “The next time he shows his porcelain mug we can trade hair fashion tips on how to get the most luxuriant curls.”

John makes a thoughtful noise. “I think he'd like that.”

“Typical,” and then he says, “what kind of ex-soldier are you, wearing cardigans anyway? I mean really, c _ardigans_! Have you no shame?”

  **I**

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure madness. I ended up writing whatever came into my head before I could talk myself out of it after rewatching Misfits. My apologies. Also if you're reading this (wow, hi!) I insist you write some Misfits fanfiction! There really needs to be more out there.


End file.
